CXXVI

Hermione had made a mistake. What had compelled her to mention that logic puzzle? She knew he would discover her identity at some point, but she'd expected their game to last longer.

The moment that the Knut dropped into place, his face had gone blank, no longer animated with playfulness and desire, leaving the professor she'd once known.

Her heart was thumping faster, its beat pounding in her ears.

His lack of reaction allowed her imagination to run rampant.

Professor Snape would never hurt me.

Hermione struggled to regain control of her emotions before she did something even more embarrassing.

CXXVII

Hermione's nerves wound tighter with every passing moment as she waited for any response from her newly sworn husband.

Don't be ridiculous, Hermione chided herself. Given his old patterns of behaviour, at worst the Professor would call everyone's attention to what a spectacle I've made of myself by playing this game. Words, just silly words, Hermione reminded herself.

Old wounds buried deep in her psyche opened, whispering into Hermione's mind, echoing back weaponized words that cut so deeply a lifetime ago. "I see no difference," he had said. "Are you incapable of restraining yourself, or do you take pride in being an insufferable know-it-all?"

She huffed, a roar of anger sweeping away the pain of self-pity. Pull yourself together, Hermione. You aren't that girl any longer, nor is he the same man. Don't presume to put words in his mouth. That really would be insufferable.

A revelation came to her, cold and weighty. It wasn't what he'd say or not say. What she truly feared was that he'd walk away, leaving her alone.

I wouldn't blame him.

Hermione Granger felt ashamed of herself. She'd risked everything for the sake of honesty, but it was done out of selfishness and arrogance.

CXXVIII

When Snape broke his silence, Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin.

"I am a man of my word."

Hermione opened her mouth, intending to reassure him that she'd not hold him to a promise made in ignorance of the facts.

Before she could speak, he held up a hand to bid her to silence. "You were one of my most disappointing students, Miss Granger."

The bottom dropped out of her stomach. "No. Way."

Snape placed a finger on her lips. "Shh."

She glared back. Git. I'll switch your nose for your bollocks! She'd prove Transfiguration had a better teacher.

CXXIX

Snape's staying hand moved, turning to brush her cheek lightly with his knuckles. Hermione had been ready to hex him, but the tenderness of the gesture flummoxed her.

He only made it worse when he said, "It would take a true miracle from the Gods themselves to find a woman both willing and capable enough to be my wife."

Hermione opened her mouth and found herself abruptly and completely at a loss for words. "What?"

Lips twisting in a wry smile, Snape wrapped one of her curls about his forefinger. "I shall repeat myself, although my words are plain enough."

CXXX

Hermione decided that she'd finally lost her mind. Severus Snape was teasing her and tugging on her hair.

"I am a man of my word. Hermione Granger was terrible in Potions. A woman who would willingly marry me is her own miracle." He sounded like a quiz show host, reading out trivia answers. Would the right answer win her a toaster?

She failed to suppress a gasp, as it clicked: he was still playing her ruddy game.

Two truths and a lie.

Severus looked directly into her eyes and said, "Perhaps I should elaborate further."

Hermione answered, "Yes. Please do."

CXXXI

Snape smiled down at her, his finger ghosting over the edge of Hermione's ear.

She shivered under the light touch. He's smiling! At me!

The rare event was short lived, for his smile disappeared as he continued in a serious tone. "My wife would need to be well-read, and able to hold her own in debate. I cannot tolerate empty prattle."

"I see," Hermione replied simply, for the deep timbre of his voice unravelled her wits.

He continued, "She must be brave. I am not fit for human discourse before morning coffee. My tongue is dangerous at any given hour."

CXXXII

Nothing was going to plan, Hermione mused ruefully. Severus' voice disarmed her, preventing her from forming coherent thoughts.

"Any woman who married me would have to be exceedingly kind-hearted. I shall trespass on her patience often. I never trouble myself with observing the niceties." Severus brushed his thumb lightly against her cheek, his fingertips burrowing into Hermione's hair.

Hermione leaned into his touch, sighing.

"My wife would need a vast capacity for forgiveness, for my many past and future failures." His voice changed, becoming strained, "Hermione, I cannot be the sort of man you deserve."

Her heart cracked. "Oh, Severus."

AN:

Thanks to Toodleoo, Havelocked, deweydecimateher, and Qdrew for their beta assistance. They make this way better than it might have been otherwise.

Your reviews and enthusiasm feed my creative fire, and I appreciate each and every one of you! Thank you!